


pictures of lily

by gasmsinc



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Porn, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Fixation, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 16:43:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7471302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gasmsinc/pseuds/gasmsinc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marcus’s replacement comes with a mess of blonde curls, big baby blues, soft pink lips, and a spot of acne. He also looks like he’s two years shy from graduating high school.</p><p>Sharpy says, “He’s eighteen.”</p><p>Jonny gives him a look.</p><p>“I checked his birth certificate myself.”</p><p>Jonny rolls his eyes.</p><p>“He wrote ‘aggressively bisexual’ in the preferences section of his application.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	pictures of lily

**Author's Note:**

> this was titled 'aggressively bisexual porn star patrick kane' in google docs for the longest time, but unfortunately there's no kaner/ofc in this (because i was lame and actually couldn't write the plot my friend and i had discussed), even though it's mentioned several times that he enjoys being with both men and women.

On a Tuesday, Jonny’s usual filming partner falls down the stairs and breaks his leg in three different places. Marcus is out of work for eight weeks, which is kind of excessive in Jonny’s opinion, but since he’s actually not a doctor, his opinion gets thrown under the rug as Sharpy goes on a wild goose chase to find a replacement.

Jonny gets one wonderful week off where he gets to experience life without Sharpy. He contemplates if he really wants to continue with his current career track when there’s a wonderful, glorious, world out there sans Sharpy, but then Sharpy finds Marcus’s replacement and promises Jonny a shooting bonus.

Jonny understands the filming bonus once he sees Marcus’s replacement.

“Sharpy, that is a _child_.”

Marcus’s replacement comes with a mess of blond curls, big baby blues, soft pink lips, and a spot of acne. He also looks like he’s two years shy from graduating high school.

Sharpy says, “He’s eighteen.”

Jonny gives him a look.

“I checked his birth certificate myself.”

Jonny rolls his eyes.

“He wrote ‘aggressively bisexual’ in the preferences section of his application.”

Patrick—Marcus’s replacement—doesn’t look _as_ young up close, but he’s definitely not allowed to buy a drink legally in the US. He looks up at Jonny from the bed where they’ll be shooting their scene, pretty little eyelashes fluttering, baby blues never breaking eye contact, lips turned up in a smirk.

Jonny has never wanted to put a boy in their place so badly.

“Right,” says Sharpy, looking like the cat who got the cream. “Just do what feels natural. You remember your safeword, Patrick? If you feel uncomfortable at any time, just say ‘red’ and we’ll stop the shoot.”

Patrick nods, not even looking at Sharpy. He’s looking straight at Jonny, pink tongue poking out to lick his chapped lips. “Okay.”

“Oh, this is going to be _perfect_ ,” purrs Sharpy before he walks away to go high-five Crow.

“You’ve done this before?” asks Jonny as they wait for Duncs and Seabs to fiddle with the lights and camera.

Patrick shrugs. “I’ve being working with Natsya and Maria. Soft core stuff. Eating pussy, fucking missionary.”

“You ever been with a guy?”

“Yeah,” admits Patrick, sprawling backwards as they wait, the fucking harlot. “Never on camera, though.”

Patrick is coy, cocky. He looks at Jonny from under his eyelashes, trying to be discrete as he looks him up and down, but he’s shit at it. He’s just _asking_ for Jonny to wreck him.

Fuck does the kid get under Jonny’s skin.

Jonny just wants to—he’s got thirty pounds on Patrick, at least. He could hold him down so easy, make him beg for it, _gag_ for it, get him crying for his cock.

“Whenever you’re ready,” says Crow.

Patrick smirks at him.

Jonny’s going to _wreck_ him.

He looks down at Patrick, settling his face into an emotionless mask. Patrick audibly swallows, cocky little smirk faltering.

Jonny sets a knee on the bed, right between Patrick’s spread thighs, nudging right up against his cock where Jonny can feel Patrick getting hard. He’s so young he probably doesn’t need to pop any pills to get it up.

“Look at you,” says Jonny, grabbing Patrick by the chin, forcing Patrick to look him in the eye. Patrick trembles. “You’re a cocky little thing, aren’t you?” says Jonny, thumbing Patrick’s soft, plump, bottom lip.

“No,” says Patrick, voice low, still looking at Jonny, eyes a bit wide and _oh—_ _oh_ , this sweet thing, this easy sweet thing that’s looking back at Jonny, all that cocky defiance gone, just like that.

“Oh darling,” says Jonny. “I am going to _wreck_ you.”

Patrick whimpers.

“Strip,” demands Jonny, finally letting go of Patrick’s chin.

Patrick blinks slowly.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, Patrick.”

Patrick looks like he wants to protest, stay still and ignore Jonny’s command, but he’s a natural sub, so he strips easily, throwing everything off in one go and not the slow tease he’s supposed to do, but Crow doesn’t yell cut.

When Patrick’s naked, all of his pale, soft skin on display, Jonny digs a hand into his soft curls and pulls him down onto his knees in front of the bed, conscious of the camera.

Jonny runs his thumb over Patrick’s bottom lip again as he keeps Patrick’s head tilted back, looking up at him. “I wonder,” murmurs Jonny, tracing his thumb back and forth, watching as Patrick lips part prettily, tongue flicking out to lick at his thumb. “How many boys have you let fuck that pretty little mouth of yours?”

Patrick mewls.

He’s hard, cock leaking between his thighs.

“I bet you just drop to your knees for anyone, don’t you?” Jonny undoes his fly with one hand, pushing his shorts and underwear down enough to get his cock out. “Man, woman, it doesn’t matter, does it?”

“No,” breathes Patrick, struggling a little in Jonny’s grip, remembering for a moment that he’s supposed to be playing a virgin. “I’ve never—”

“Don’t lie to me,” barks Jonny, tightening his grip, guiding his cock to Patrick’s mouth, rubbing the head over Patrick’s lips. Patrick sighs, blinking dizzily, opening his mouth, trying to suck Jonny in, so eager for it, but Jonny pulls his cock away. Patrick whines, desperate.

“You need a cock in your dirty little mouth,” says Jonny, pushing his thumb into Patrick’s mouth, stifling a groan when Patrick immediately wraps his lips around the digit and lets Jonny fuck his mouth with it.

Patrick’s fucking up the script. He’s supposed to struggle, play the shy virgin who plays hard to get until he finally gives in to Jonny. Jonny glances at Sharpy, slipping his thumb free only to replace it with two fingers instead, cock leaking as he bumps the back of Patrick’s throat and Patrick gags. Sharpy nods, mouthing ‘keep going’.

“You’ll suck on anything, won’t you?” says Jonny, slipping in another finger. “I bet all the girls love you. You love eating pussy when you’re not having your throat fucked.”

Patrick moans, chin sloppy from his own spit.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” says Jonny, fingers stilling. Patrick looks straight up at him as he works his tongue over Jonny’s fingers. “Doesn’t matter what it is. Pussy. Cock. You just need something to occupy your mouth.”

Patrick moans his agreement, a hand sneaking down to touch his cock, but Jonny pushes his foot between Patrick’s legs, the toe of his shoe dangerously close to Patrick’s balls. “You don’t get to touch your cock unless I say so.” He applies pressure, not enough to truly hurt, but enough to get his point across. Patrick digs his fingers meanly into the fat of his thighs.

“Good boy,” says Jonny and watches the way Patrick’s body flushes pink from the praise. How has no one taken care of him before?

Jonny pulls his fingers from Patrick’s mouth, Patrick’s tongue chasing them. “Please,” he begs.

“Please what?”

Patrick swallows. He looks at Jonny, a little lost, struggling. 

“What do you want, darling?” asks Jonny, guiding, relaxing his grip in Patrick’s hair. “Tell me what you want nicely and I’ll give it to you.”

“Please,” begs Patrick. “I want to suck your cock.”

“Hhm,” says Jonny, fisting his cock lazily. “You can ask me better than that, Patrick.”

“ _Please_ ,” begs Patrick, licking his lips, looking at Jonny hungrily. “Please. Please let me suck your cock.”

“There’s a good boy,” murmurs Jonny, guiding his cock to Patrick’s mouth. His heart could burst at the way Patrick’s mouth just opens for him, swallowing him down greedily. “Good boy. Ssh, ssh, I know you can take me further than that, there’s a good boy.” He’s as far down the back of Patrick’s throat as he can go without actually choking him. It’s not far, tears already at the corners of Patrick’s eyes, breathing loudly through his nose, but he’s _trying_.

Jonny holds Patrick’s head still, rocking his cock in and out, slow, steady, not to overwhelm him. Later, he thinks, later they can practice this, work at it is until Patrick can swallow him down all the way.

Patrick’s fucked the script to hell, but Jonny knows that this shoot is going to sell. Patrick is a pretty little blond, a few inches shorter than Jonny, not as pubescent as a usual twink, body more athletic than it is skinny, but there’s enough of a difference between them that the company’s fans are going to gobble this shit up. They’re going to _beg_ for more.

Jonny will have enough opportunities to teach Patrick how to swallow cock.

Patrick moans around Jonny’s cock, choking, spit dribbling down his chin. He looks perfect like that, mouth stuffed full of cock, looking up at Jonny, blinking slowly, dazed almost from it.

“Good boy,” murmurs Jonny, actually meaning it in ways he hasn’t meant it in years. He’s aware they’re in a room surrounded by people, Seabs at his side to get the perfect shot of his cock slipping in and out of Patrick’s mouth from his point of view, but he feels possessive of Patrick, like Patrick is _his_ boy.

He pulls his cock free from Patrick’s mouth before he comes down the back of his throat. “Hush,” he says when Patrick whines at the loss, trying to chase Jonny’s dick.

Jonny takes a few deep breaths to steady himself.

Patrick is looking up at him, working his mouth.

“On the bed,” demands Jonny, letting go of Patrick’s hair, forcing himself to slip back into the space he’s carved out inside of himself to be the controlled, responsible but distant Dom he’s always had to be to survive this business. There’s a fine line Jonny’s established for himself where he cares enough about whoever he’s shooting with to look for signs of discomfort and respect the trust that they’ve put in him, but where he also doesn’t attach himself and think of the person as _his_.

Patrick, the little shit, is blurring that line.

Patrick scrambles onto the bed, hands and knees, but Jonny grabs him by an ankle and flips him onto his back, legs spread.

Patrick is shaved, hole shiny from where he’s already stretched himself open. He’s flushed all the way down to his thighs, from embarrassment or arousal, Jonny doesn’t know, just runs his fingers up Patrick’s pale legs.

Patrick reaches out, fingers slipping under Jonny’s shirt to guide his fingers up and down his sides, across his stomach to feel Jonny’s abs, grinning to himself. “You like what you feel?” asks Jonny.

Patrick nods, dragging Jonny’s shirt up over his head, knocking off Jonny’s snapback in the process. Jonny was supposed to be Patrick’s older brother’s frat brother, or something just as ridiculous, but Patrick threw that plot point straight out the damn window.

They kiss for the first time, Patrick’s fingers caught in the belt loop of Jonny’s shorts, mouth open and inviting, lips chapped and wet. Patrick yields to Jonny so easily, sighing right into the kiss, letting his tongue slip into Jonny’s mouth and chasing him when Jonny pulls away to toe off his shoes and socks and get rid of his underwear and shorts.

Patrick isn’t shy about admiring Jonny’s body. He lies there, legs spread, looking him up and down, swallowing tightly and licking his lips hungrily.

There’s lube conveniently left on the bedside table. Jonny pours some onto his hand to jack at his cock lazily, taking his own time to really get a look at Patrick.

He’s beautiful, all sleek muscles and runner legs, whole body flushed pink, nipples perky and rosy.

Jonny pinches one of those rosy nipples between his thumb and forefinger, twisting. The noise Patrick makes is a wonderful keen, whole body jerking with it. “You’re sensitive here,” says Jonny, matter of fact. Patrick nods, taking a nervous, shaky breath.

Jonny runs his hands up and down Patrick sides, soothing him. He leans forward, pushing Patrick’s curls from his head, biting his ear. Patrick gasps, cock sliding against Jonny’s. He’s leaking precome.

“It’s okay,” says Jonny into Patrick’s ear, low enough that the mic can’t pick it up. “You’re doing great. Do you need to use your safeword?”

He pulls back to get a good look at Patrick. Patrick doesn’t look uncomfortable or frightened, only nervous. He shakes his head.

Jonny gives him a small, reassuring smile. He splays his hands over Patrick’s taut stomach, feeling him breathe, giving him a moment to collect himself. When he’s satisfied that Patrick is alright, he wraps a hand around his cock.

Patrick’s hips immediately jerk into his grip. He fucks into the loose circle of Jonny’s fingers, moaning, chasing his orgasm, getting close before Jonny pulls his fingers away.

Patrick cries out, hands flying down to finish the job, but Jonny grabs him by the wrists, pinning his arms above his head. “What did I say about touching your cock?”

Patrick doesn’t respond. Jonny keeps Patrick’s wrists together with one hand and uses the other to pinch a nipple meanly.

“I don’t touch my cock unless you say so!” cries Patrick.

Jonny stops pinching. “That’s right, Patrick. Your cock is _mine_. You don’t get to come until I say so, is that understood?”

Patrick nods, already looking wrecked, tears at the corner of his eyes.

“I know you can be a good boy for me,” says Jonny, running his fingers over Patrick’s thigh. “You’re my good boy, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” agrees Patrick.

Jonny kisses him, because he can’t resist, because Patrick _is_ his good boy.

He’s so fucked.

He lets go of Patrick’s wrists. Patrick keeps them up above his head without being told. Jonny feels something in his heart tighten. Patrick is such a good, sweet thing. He wants to please, _needs_ to please.

“Good boy,” says Jonny just because he can, just because he likes the way Patrick’s lips part at the praise, his clavicles and neck and cheeks turning pink. His whole face lights up from it, eyes bright and happy.

There’s so much Jonny wants to do to Patrick, show him, teach him, but they only have so much time.

He rubs a finger over Patrick’s hole, watching as Patrick gasps, tongue flicking at his bottom lip almost obsessively. Jesus, the kid probably _does_ need something in his mouth constantly.

Jonny spreads Patrick’s legs a little wider so Seabs can get the perfect angle. His finger slips into Patrick’s hole easily from the lube already there, but the audience doesn’t need to know that. “You slut,” says Jonny, grinning when Patrick sucks in a breath, cock leaking against his stomach. “Look at you, taking my finger like that. You’re not a virgin.”

“I am,” argues Patrick, not even trying to hide the jerking of his hips as he tries to fuck himself just on Jonny’s finger. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Liar,” says Jonny, slipping in another finger.

Patrick groans. Jonny fucks his fingers in and out, changing the angle to find what he’s looking for. Patrick mewls, tipping his head back.

“How many cocks have you had stuffed up in here?” asks Jonny voice calm even though the thought of Patrick submitting like this for any other Dom makes something inside of him turn in anger. He stifles the anger down.

“I haven’t fucked anyone,” tries Patrick, but the argument is weak. “I’m a virgin.”

“Good boys don’t lie, Patrick,” says Jonny, adding a third finger.

Patrick moans. “I’ve never fucked a guy before.”

“Your hole says otherwise,” says Jonny. “It’s greedy, taking all of my fingers so easy. I bet you love being stuffed full of cock, don’t you? A guy just has to look at you and you drop to your knees, begging them to fuck you.”

Jonny withdraws his fingers to roll on a condom. “What do you ask the boys when you want them to fuck you?”

“I don’t,” sobs Patrick, holding his legs open for Jonny. “I don’t, I swear. I’m a virgin.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Patrick,” says Jonny, pushing the head of his cock against Patrick’s hole, feeling him flutter and try to pull Jonny in, but Jonny pulls away. Patrick whimpers. “We both know a slut like you isn’t a virgin. Now, what do you ask the boys when you want them to fuck that greedy little hole of yours?”

Patrick sobs and takes in three shaky breaths. “All you have to do,” says Jonny, gentle, pushing his cock in past Patrick’s rim, pushing in and out before he completely pulls away, just to hear Patrick sob in desperation, “is tell me how you ask the boys to fuck you and I’ll give you my cock.”

“Please,” sobs Patrick. “Please fuck me. Please put your cock in my greedy little hole.”

“Good boy,” murmurs Jonny, pushing his cock in until there’s nowhere else for him to go. Patrick nearly shouts.

Patrick is tight, so very tight, whole body seizing up like a vice. “Darling,” says Jonny, stroking Patrick’s bottom lip with his thumb. “Hush, you’re all right. Open up for me, there’s a good boy.” He sticks his thumb into Patrick’s mouth, sighing when Patrick starts to suck on it, body slowly relaxing around Jonny.

“Good boy,” says Jonny, drawing his cock out and then pushing back in, slow and steady, feeling Patrick’s rim go loose around his dick. “There’s my good boy.”

Patrick sucks in a shaky breath through his nose, lips still wrapped around Jonny’s thumb like he needs it. Jonny keeps it there. He uses his other hand to drape Patrick’s leg over his thigh, trying to be conscious of the camera, but he honestly can’t give a shit. His mind is too concentrated on Patrick, making sure that this feels good for him, that Patrick is comfortable and happy and getting the fuck of his life.

It doesn’t take long for Patrick to start moaning around his thumb, loud and desperate, hips pushing back against Jonny’s. “You’re a greedy little bitch,” says Jonny as he stills, letting Seabs get a shot of Patrick’s rim all red and spread wide around his dick.

Patrick keens, a high pitched, sweet noise. “You’re just so greedy for my cock,” murmurs Jonny, slipping a finger down to tease at Patrick’s rim. “Can’t get enough of it, can you?”

“No,” agrees Patrick around Jonny’s thumb. “I love your cock.”

“My greedy little bitch,” says Jonny, fucking in and out harder than before, balls slapping against Patrick’s ass, the noise filling the space. Patrick lips part prettily, moaning, staring up at Jonny like Jonny is some sort of God, eyes wide and dilated, hips rolling into Jonny’s thrusts.

“Your greedy bitch,” he breathes, fingers squeezing his own thighs to stop himself from touching his cock.

Jonny might be a little bit in love.

“You’ve been so good for me, darling,” says Jonny, feeling that familiar pull in his balls. He usually lasts longer than this, but Patrick’s crawled his way under his skin. “You gonna come for me?”

“Please,” begs Patrick.

Jonny wraps his hand around Patrick’s cock, groaning when Patrick tightens around him. His hips stutter, Patrick babbling under him. “Please. _Please_ , Jonny please. Please let me come.”

“Ssh,” commands Jonny, squeezing his eyes closed to steady himself. When they open, Patrick’s cheeks are wet from tears.

“ _Please_ ,” he sobs. “Please, sir. May I come?”

Jonny’s heart is going to burst. “Come for me.”

It almost hurts, the way Patrick’s body seizes up from his orgasm, vice like around his dick. Jonny stops moving, watching Patrick’s mouth part in a long moan as his cock paints thick, white stripes across his belly and chest.

“Good boy,” he praises as Patrick’s body loosens around him. “Such a good boy for me, Patrick.”

He pulls out as gently as he can, stripping off the condom and throwing it onto the bed.

Patrick looks the perfect shade of debauched, breathing ragged, blinking confusedly, eyes trained on Jonny.

It only takes a few tugs of his dick for Jonny to come all over Patrick, adding to the mess on his stomach, whole body going taut from orgasm. He hasn't come this hard from a shoot in years, hand tugging at his dick to drag it out. The scene should stop there, but Jonny seizes forward, kissing Patrick fiercely.

Crow only calls ‘cut’ once Jonny leans back.

“Damn To-es,” purrs Sharpy, appearing at Jonny’s side with a robe and a wet towel. “Good job, Peeks,” he adds, but Patrick doesn't reply. He's still breathing raggedly, looking at Jonny but not _really_ looking.

“I've got him,” says Jonny. Patrick’s slipped into subspace; it’s Jonny’s responsibility to administer aftercare.

He takes the wet cloth from Sharpy, wiping away the mess on Patrick’s stomach. “Patrick,” he says. “You did wonderful, but it's time to come back to me now, okay?”

Patrick squeezes his eyes shut tight. “Nice, deep breaths,” commands Jonny, gentle. “Just like that, there you go.”

Patrick’s eyes eventually pop open. “Is there water?” he asks.

Jonny helps Patrick sit up before he hands over a water bottle. Patrick takes deep swallows until there’s nothing left, and then he lies back down on the bed, still naked, blinking up at the ceiling. “I messed up the shoot.”

Around them the crew is breaking down the set. Sharpy’s drifted away to talk to Crow, but neither of them look disappointed. “You didn’t mess anything up,” says Jonny. “You did great. Sharpy or Crow would have stopped the shoot if they didn’t like the way it was going, trust me.”

Jonny retrieves a robe from where it’s been left absentmindedly over the back of a chair, but Patrick seems not to want to put it on.

“How are you feeling?”

Patrick shrugs. He plays with the empty water bottle absentmindedly, flushing pink and not meeting Jonny’s eyes.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” says Jonny.

Patrick shrugs again. “I didn’t--nevermind.”

“What?”

Patrick remains tight-lipped.

“You can tell me, you know,” says Jonny. “I’m not going to use it against you.”

“My parents always told me not to trust strangers,” says Patrick, smirking, just a little, which means that he’s coming a little more out of his headspace.

Jonny rolls his eyes. “You’ve had my dick in your mouth.”

Patrick bats his eyelashes.

“ _And_ in your ass.”

Patrick frowns.

Jonny shakes his head.

“We’re heading out,” announces Sharpy. “You two going to be okay?”

Jonny will be just fine, but Patrick? He hasn’t moved a muscle. He just keeps staring up at the ceiling like a lost puppy. Jonny can’t tell if he’s still in subspace, or if he’s just being a little shit. Jonny can’t leave him alone, just in case. “Don’t worry about us. I’ll lock up.”

Sharpy raises an eyebrow suggestively, but Jonny just snatches the keys to the building out of his hand. When Sharpy and the crew have scattered, he relaxes back on the bed next to Patrick, shoulder to shoulder.

“I’ve never done that before,” says Patrick. Jonny waits for further explanation. “Subbed for someone,” Patrick clarifies. “I’ve never subbed for someone before. Not even, you know, with like a boyfriend or girlfriend.”

“When Sharpy asked me to do a shoot with you, I said yes immediately.” Out of the corner of his eye, Jonny can see Patrick blushing. “I’ve watched like, all of your videos. Even your early days when you were subbing.”

Jonny raises an eyebrow. “Did you beat your dick raw to me, Patrick?”

“Yes,” admits Patrick, whole body turning pink, especially his ears.

“You are ridiculous,” says Jonny.

Patrick tilts his head so his curls tickle Jonny’s jaw, lips close to Jonny’s throat. This is the strangest aftercare Jonny has ever administered, but everyone has their own needs: Patrick just happens to be a stealth cuddler.

“Are we supposed to be doing this?” asks Patrick, managing to cuddle even closer. Jonny just lifts his arm and lets Patrick crowd up against him.

No, definitely not, thinks Jonny, because they’re definitely throwing professionalism straight out the window, but the damn kid has already crawled his way under Jonny’s skin and burrowed a little place in his heart, which makes Jonny throw all rational thought away. He’s such a sucker for cute boys with big blue eyes and no sense of self-preservation.

Patrick rolls over, working his way between Jonny’s legs until he can rest his elbows on Jonny’s chest meanly. He flutters his eyelashes at Jonny, hitting him with a coy smile.

Jonny narrows his eyes in suspicion. “How long have you been out of subspace?”

Patrick shrugs, resting his chin in his palms. His elbows are fucking boney as fuck. “I think I’m still in it, ‘cause I find a douchebag like you hot. ‘Darling,’ really?”

“You liked it when you were sucking my dick.”

Patrick chooses to ignore him. “You should take me out to dinner.”

“You should get dressed.”

If Jonny tilts his head just right, he can see the curve of Patrick’s bare ass over his shoulder. It’s a wonderful thing, small, but still plump. How he managed to miss it is a wonder.

“You can stare at my ass _after_ you feed me,” says Patrick.

“Patrick--”

“Don’t even act like you’re not even a little bit in love with me already,” says Patrick, grinning. He’s such a cocky little shit. Jonny wants to fight him and fuck him all at the same time. “We’ve already had sex, so it’s like we’ve been dating for a few weeks already.”

“That is definitely not how that works,” says Jonny.

Patrick pouts. “If I told you I really don’t want to be alone right now, would you take me out to dinner?”

“Are you being serious or are you trying to get a free meal out of me?”

Patrick shrugs, finally dropping one of his damn boney elbows to trace a scar on Jonny’s shoulder. “I still feel a little weird. Not, you know, out of it. Just weird.”

“Do you feel uncomfortable?”

“I’m _uncomfortably_ hungry.”

“Patrick,” says Jonny, putting bite into his words. “I’m being serious. Did the scene make you uncomfortable in anyway?”

“No,” says Patrick, looking at Jonny earnestly. “I liked it.”

Jonny lets out a breath of relief. Before the shoot, Sharpy had laid out all of the things that Patrick wasn’t willing to do. Jonny avoided them, but sometimes a person doesn’t know what they dislike until they try it. If Patrick had been too nervous or afraid to use his safeword, then he suffered silently.

“Stop that,” says Patrick.

“Stop what?”

“You look like you’re beating yourself up,” says Patrick. “I liked everything you did to me. I’m trying not to think about it so I don’t get hard again. I just feel—I don’t know. I just don’t want to be alone right now. Even if you’re not already in love with me—which you are, I’ve decided—can you, I don’t know. Can we just get something to eat?”

“You can’t just decide that someone is in love with you,” says Jonny, incredulous.

“Okay,” says Patrick, ignoring Jonny. “Where are we going to eat?”

“I need to shower,” tries Jonny.

“But after we shower,” says Patrick. “Can we go to Five Guys?”

“That’s going to kill you.”

“Okay, so, I’m going to ignore the fact that you’re probably a vegan who smokes shrooms in the desert,” says Patrick.

“Get off of me,” says Jonny.

Patrick rolls off easily, but he’s quick to catch Jonny’s wrist when Jonny stands. He looks up at Jonny with his big blue eyes, worrying his lip, unexplainably shy.

“There’s no living with you, is there?” says Jonny, but he’s smiling, tugging on Patrick.

Patrick smiles, blinding.

Jonny is so fucked.


End file.
